To Serve the Noble House of Black
by Snaperipper
Summary: They thought that the war was over. They thought that with the destruction of the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes that they had won the war. But the Dark Lord wasn't the only one to make Horcruxes and Wormtail wasn't the only Wizard asinine enough to resurrect the dead..
1. Chapter 1

Here is the story that I promised over a year ago. (ok almost 2 years ago) There will be time travel, de-aging, good bad guys and very bad good-guys as well as an old-fashioned love story with four people involved. I know you hear about those all the time. LOL. Updates will be sporadic as with most of my stories. They are dependent on real life and my muse's issues. I truly hope that you enjoy my story. Reviews are always welcomed but never required. Thank you for reading!

**To Serve the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black **

January 2001

It was time. The Noble House of Black had ended with the fall of Draco Malfoy. There were no other Black's to take up the mantel of Patriarch or Matriarch. Through the years, one by one and in two's and three's the Black family and its descendants had all perished.

From the main branch of Blacks, to the cadet branches of the family, such as the Prewitts, the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Flints, the LeStranges, the Potters and now the final member, Draco Abraxas Malfoy dead at the age of 21. He was killed by his best friend and sometimes lover Theodore Nott who was following orders under the Imperious curse that Malfoy Senior had claimed to be under years before.

It was the final battle; the end of it all. The Golden Trio and Wizarding Britain had foolishly believed that the Battle of Hogwarts in May of 1998 had been the final battle. They had believed that even with the losses that they had suffered that the light had won the war against the dark or what was the end of Tom Riddle, best known as Lord Voldemort and by his followers as The Dark Lord. They had believed that by destroying his Horcruxes that they had defeated the evil in their world and that they could begin again. The school could be rebuilt, two thirds of the Golden Trio could join the Auror Academy and Hermione Granger could pass her N.E.W.T.s with the highest scores ever seen and go to work for the Ministry of Magic to fight for the welfare of Magical Creatures.

They had destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, what they didn't realize was that he was not the only person evil enough to create them and Wormtail was not the only Wizard or Witch asinine enough to resurrect the dead.

Chapter One

Cold winds whipped through the home of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. As the door crashed against the wall and the broken body of the last Member of The Order of the Phoenix fell over the threshold the wards surrounding the property shuddered. All of a sudden, the door was slammed shut by the hand of the ever-helpful last loyal creature of the ancient house prompting the former owner to begin to scream obscenities.

"Filth, Mudblood, worthless magic stealer, stain living in my home." Screamed the portrait of Walburga Black.

At this familiar rant, the young woman lying on the floor, obviously trying to catch her breath started to chuckle and then began to wheeze as she peered up at the portrait through the curtain of her overgrown hair.

"Honey, I'm home, you rotten old windbag." Crawling over to the bottom of the once grand staircase and grabbing onto the railing to pull herself up, Hermione Jean Granger glared at the portrait of the former homeowner as she slumped on the bottom step. Allowing her eyes to narrow into slits, she felt her body tense as the lingering effects of the cruciatus curse flowed through her body. The firing of her nerve endings brought a strangled breath through her teeth as her hands clenched into fists and her teeth ground against each other.

Her parents would have cringed at such a sound. If they had been alive and if they had known that they had a child that they had raised to be mindful of these things, they would have been appalled.

"Kreacher" croaked Hermione from the stairway.

"Yes, Miss Mudblood, what may I do for you today?" Asked Kreacher looking up to her and seeing that she was not doing well. Not well at all.

"Please serve me the finest tea that can be found in this house of horrors in the prettiest of tea cups that we have and prepare it for myself and Wally. We need to have a chat, your mistress and I."

Sitting up as straight as she could, she could feel the curse wounds that she had received earlier fighting at Draco's and Theo's sides and trying to protect both from the remaining Death Eaters and other wizards that had been running rampant through London, destroying the lives of Muggles and Muggleborns. They canvassed the city killing in the most inventive and horrific ways, those that opposed their message. Those that did not believe in their words.

The opposition had gotten the list from Hogwarts of the newborn muggleborn witches and wizards and killed them before they reached their fifth day of life, going on and destroying their families to ensure that they did not try and procreate again and risk bringing another magical child into the world. They believed that they had somehow stolen magic from the pureblood witches and wizards and for that they must forfeit their lives.

They tracked down every member of the Order of the Phoenix and their supporters and killed them slowly for not supporting the new Dark Lord that had risen. They were hunting for Hermione for being the most well-known muggleborn left alive and when they found out that she was supported by both Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott they killed them in the worst way possible.

They had Theo turn on Draco through use of the Imperious curse and kill him slowly, all the while Hermione watched crying inside as she was helpless and wandless to do anything. When Draco took his last breath, looking straight at Theo, the curse was dropped and with a scream Theo turned his wand on everyone that he could see and threw cutting curse after entrails expelling curse, saving the Avada Kadavra for his own father whom had ordered the use of his son to kill Draco. Just as the curse left his lips and descended on his father, another called out and ended his life with the same curse. The look on his face as he fell before Draco was heartbreaking. He was at peace, knowing that he would once again be with his love.

All eyes turned to her as she drooped in her captors' arms. Tears falling down her face as she realized she was the only one left. The last Order of the Phoenix member, the last member of Dumbledore's Army, the last remaining muggleborn in Britain. With a scream torn from the core of her magic she blasted away the two wizards holding onto her and disapparated from the room, through the wards and anti-apparation jinxes and found herself on the stoop of Grimmauld place inside the anti-muggle wards, not that there were any muggles left in this area of town.

Once Death Eaters had realized that The Order of The Phoenix's headquarters was there at Grimmauld Place, they tried to burn those out, the remaining muggles had left town. What the witches and wizards weren't counting on were the protections that The Ancient and Noble House of Black had built into the building. The protections that Hermione could now feel start to shift around her with the almost sentient magic of the townhome and the famous family tree's acknowledgement of Draco's death. The last Black scion was dead, and Hermione no longer had the protection of the manor from the evils outside her door.

Sitting up straighter and hissing as she felt the shift of her ribs where they were fractured, she took small even breaths to lessen the strain on her lungs and to avoid the accidental puncture of one of them. She shifted her legs, dismayed at the sluggishly bleeding marks upon them. Lifting a shaking and bloody hand to her head, she pushed her hair away from her eyes so that she could look the at the painting directly. Niceties must still be acknowledged.

The return of Kreacher, along with the requested tea and biscuits found Hermione struggling to remain upright, but with the probability of her imminent if not immediate death. She had a few things that she wanted to say before leaving this mortal coil to begin her next adventure, hopefully as nothing more than a muggle shop girl of average intelligence, with loving parents and unknown friends.

Tea cup in hand Hermione looked straight at Mrs. Black and voiced her observations to the only remaining knowing offender left.

"Well Wally, I can't believe that I am about to say this, but you have won," taking a sip of what would probably be her last cup of tea, she drank deeply, trying not to focus on the wounds that riddled her body. Looking up at the for once silent portrait, she met her eyes once again. "The war that began with Grindlewald before your time and escalated into Tom Riddle's time, the time of your life, your husbands', your children's lives, your cousins and siblings and their children, is still going strong. What is left of the Pureblood witches and Wizards have decimated the muggleborns, the half-blood's and the blood traitors. They have won. I am the last of the muggleborns and I honestly don't believe that I will make it through the night.

There will be no more resistance, we have fallen, we have failed, but I will go to my grave knowing, that though I have failed and the purebloods have won, I will die happy knowing that I got to tell the crazy bitch of a portrait that has bad mouthed me for the last seven years that her entire family is gone. The last of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has died without issue and it is your fault, you crazy arse bitch!


	2. Chapter 2

I am just flabbergasted by the attention that this story has gotten. I am shook. I knew from comments on Facebook that people were interested in the story that I had teased them with a year ago, but I was overwhelmed by all the follows and favorites that the first chapter has garnered. Thank you all so much for your kind words and appreciation. You are the best!

Chapter 2

"The last of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has died without issue and it is your fault, you crazy arse bitch!"

Slate grey eyes stared at her from the gilt-edged frame, once beautiful, now darkened by age and neglect. The image inside the portrait remained still and Hermione was afraid that whatever sentient magic that protected the house had been damaged so badly that the portrait had become inert. Her last insult to the long dead witch unheard, her final words lost to the wind that whipped through the broken windows of the house that she had claimed as her haven for the last four years.

The bravado that Hermione had been feeling just seconds before seemed to falter, the weight that she had carried for so long now destroying any hope that she might have felt in returning to this place that Sirius had despised as a reminder of the parents that hated him and that Harry had wanted to burn to the ground for the reminder of a godfather that he never got to know, whom had promised to save him only to prove how reckless he was by dying before he could ever fulfill that promise.

She could feel her strength faltering as the wards outside Grimmauld Place were beat upon by the ones that wanted to kill her so badly. She would be the trophy upon their wall. Undesirable Number One now that Harry was gone, the last one left to fight against their idea of "The Greater Good." The ones that foolishly believed that they could raise the dead without consequences, without the world finding out. The ones that wanted to rule that world, outside of their magical borders. Well fuck it. There was nothing she could do now, nothing that could be said to temper their words or actions. She was just a mudblood that didn't have the proper manners, or even proper knowledge of the magical world for her words to be listened to. She never learned her place and would die as proof of her ignorance and inferiority.

Finishing her cup of tea with a last toast to the portrait hanging upon the wall, she called for Kreacher.

"Yes Miss Mudblood, how can Kreacher help you? Would you like more tea?"

"No Kreacher, thank you for the tea. I think that you may have been holding onto that special tea for just a tad bit too long, but I do appreciate the gesture." Wheezed Hermione, once again trying to push the hair from her face, but finding it knotted into bloody clumps. Letting her hand drop to her side, she leaned heavily against the bottom of the railing, trying with all the might that remained to keep herself from sprawling across the bottom step.

"Kreacher, I must ask a favor of you and it is not an order, I will not leave this world ordering a house elf to do anything, but I must at least ask."

Kreacher, used to the strangeness of Hermione and hearing all about her quest for House Elf Liberation from the once proud Hogwarts elves, knew that she did not mean any disrespect by not ordering him to complete this final task for her.

"Yes Miss Mudblood, what favor can Kreacher do for you?"

"Kreacher, when the wards on this house fall, whether I am still breathing or not, I ask that you destroy this house and everything and everyone in it, barring yourself of course. Or at the very least take me away from this godforsaken place. Do not let those bastards take my body. Do not let them use me as an example of what they mean to eradicate from the wizarding world. Please Kreacher." Her final words came out a whisper as she stared with tears in her tired eyes at the only living creature that might give a damn.

"Hmph… what dramatics... Merlin you would think that it was the end of the world and you were dying you little chit..."

Raising her eyes to the painting once again and thinking that she might be hallucinating just a little bit, she let her eyes fall closed to the smirking face staring down at her.

"Oh no Miss Granger, now is not the time for a kip. I listened to your little impassioned speech, blaming me for the fall of the wizarding world, now dying or not, you will listen to me."


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, I am just amazed that there has been such a positive response to this story. Honestly it wasn't the story that I was going to start with, but I am truly happy that everyone is enjoying it. Thank you all so much for the follows, reviews and favorites. They are really spurring my creativity and keeping the muse going even through having strep-throat and feeling like crap. My muse wants to go to Barnes and Noble to be a hipster with my apple juice and flat bread pizza. I think that I will wait until I am not infectious anymore. Lol

Chapter 3

"Oh no Miss Granger, now is not the time for a kip. I listened to your little impassioned speech, blaming me for the fall of the wizarding world, now dying or not, you will listen to me."

Staring down coldly at the pathetically malnourished girl almost sprawled at the bottom of her staircase she knew as only an old and semi sentient painting could that there was nothing that could be done to fix the current ruins that their world had fallen too. This young woman was possibly the only sane minded witch or wizard left in Wizarding Britain if not further abroad if the portrait of Phineas Nigellus were to be believed. He had some inside knowledge after all in the affairs of the others outside of these decrepit walls. What the bloody hell had Kreacher been doing all these years? The chit would not thank her for what she was about to do, no she would not thank her at all, but it must be done, and she was the last one standing so to speak, she thought as she looked back down. Oh well, she would be standing again soon enough.

Looking to the being standing just to the left of the reclining girl, wringing his hands, unsure if he should offer assistance or his promise to essentially end her existence should the unscrupulous witches and wizards try to forcibly remove her from this property, she shook her head before calling out to him. "Kreacher."

Looking up at his long dead mistress with tired and slightly forlorn eyes, he replied "Yes Mistress, what can Kreacher do for his beautiful Mistress?"

"Well as I have been long dead these years, you can stop bowing and scraping to me."

Feeling his whole body shake at the order, he straightened up his spine and stood at attention.

"Kreacher, it is time…"

"Mistress?"

"Shore up the wards Kreacher, this house isn't going to come tumbling down until I say so. And do something to make Ms. Granger a bit more comfortable, it can't be a good thing that she is starting to cough up blood."

"Yes Mistress, Kreacher will do as Mistress asks, yes, yes right away."

With a snap of his fingers, the wards snapped into place around the townhome, essentially stopping the banging coming from the outside where several witches and wizards were throwing Bombardas' at the doors and windows, trying to find a week spot in order to enter. Another snap of his fingers had the intruders thrown across the street. Finally, he bent over the prone form of the witch Hermione Granger and touched her sternum, healing her ribs and her punctured lung. He tapped each of her knees and the sluggishly bleeding cuts began to heal and then he tapped her forehead, partially healing the concussion that she had suffered along with a few of the more brutal injuries that she had received when trying to leave Nott Manor.

Drawing in a deep breathe, Hermione felt herself being lifted and seated upon a comfortable settee that she did not recognize as being part of the household before. Opening her eyes, she found herself almost face to face with the portrait that she had been conversing with before. Feeling a bit of the surrealness surrounding her, she realized that she could breathe again and think almost clearly.

Trying to sit up, but not quite accomplishing the feat, she fell back against the cushions of the couch and met the eyes of the portrait staring at her.

"Kreacher, another cup of tea for Miss Granger, if you would and maybe something to fortify her a bit, she has a long journey ahead of her after all."

Quickly bringing in another tea tray filled with whatever nibbles he could find in the house, he set it next to the mudblood and quickly bowed before moving to stand next to the portrait.

Bewildered and unsure what was happening around her, she had to ask, "Am I dead? Did I finally die in this godforsaken place?" Why am I still in so much pain? Why am I still here staring at your portrait? Where are they, why didn't they come for me? Breathing much more rapidly, Hermione looked frantically around the room where she was situated.

"Miss Granger, whom are you looking for?" Asked Walburga in her most sanctimonious voice.

"Harry, Ron, Jesus my parents, was I really so evil that I would be left in hell alone? This hell with you and him." Cried Hermione pointing first to the painting and then to the house elf that stood sentient beside it.

"Kreacher, calm her…I can not speak with her while she is so delusional."

"There, there missy mudblood, it will be ok." Said Kreacher patting Hermione's hand before tapping her on her head.

Immediately her eyes closed, and her shoulders slumped.

"Kreacher!" screeched Walburga, "I did not tell you to put her to sleep yet, she has a concussion, she needs to keep her eyes open and listen to me, this is no time for a nap or for her brain to swell more, there are things to discuss and plans to be made."

"Oh my god woman, if I could close your drapes I would in a heartbeat to get you to shut the hell up" moaned Hermione. "This can't be my hell; this can't be my hell" she whispered to herself. "Oh god, is this purgatory?" she screeched as her eyes shot open again.

"For Merlin's sake girl, calm yourself. You are not dead, you are not in hell, nor are you in purgatory. You are at Grimmauld Place. Ancestral Home of The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, former home to myself, my husband Orion and my two children Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Yes, yes…" interrupted Hermione ranting slightly "Former Head Quarters to the Order of the Phoenix and later the Order of the Ferret… Why am I not dead? Why won't you both just let me die? There is nothing left for me to do here. I have no allies, no potential allies. Every magical that is left believes in His word! I just want to be left to die in some semblance of peace, to move onto my next adventure that hopefully does not involve adventure of any kind, jus a boring exhistance with boring friends, a cat and my parents…. please just let me go." She finished with a tired sigh slowly closing her eyes against the fierce stare of the portrait in front of her.

"I'm sorry Ms. Granger, but you are far from finished with your work, I am afraid that you are just beginning."

"No! I refuse! Screamed Hermione as she tried to stand. "I tried everything to fit into this world, I tried everything to educate this world and I have tried everything to save this world! You know what, you people never wanted me here in the first place! I don't know why the hell they invited me, but I wish to God that they never did!

"Miss Granger…. interrupted Walburga.

"No! I have lost everyone! I lost Harry and Ron and every other friend and ally that I have ever known. I lost my parents. I never got to have a childhood, between the troll and Voldemort, the basilisk and Voldemort, the time turner, the Triwizard tournament, Umbitch and Him! I never got to fall in love, Christ I never even got to date because I chose this world, I chose this world over my own and now I just want it to end. Let this fucking world burn. I'm done."

"Miss Granger!" Screeched Walburga, "You will cease this incessant ranting at once and listen to me! I don't give a bloody care if you think that you are done. You are the last witch standing and you need to know a few things before you roll over and play dead, like that son of mine. You need to understand what they did to you before you give up without a care, what they did to all of you in their quest for The Greater Good."

"Oh my god." Cried Hermione scrubbing her hands across her eyes and into her hair where she tugged on her curls, 'You have had years to tell me this stuff, why didn't you tell me two years ago instead of screeching at me and everyone else that entered this death trap? Hell, why didn't you tell me in 1996 when I came here for the first time? Why are you waiting until the wolves are at the door to tell me this mysterious information?"

'Because I couldn't!" yelled the portrait "This whole house was under His control from the moment my son let him in the front door!"


	4. Chapter 4

I am so excited by the response that I am getting for this story. I cherish every follow, favorite and review that I have received. Thank you all so very much. I am trying to keep with a once a week update on this story, however several other plunnies are encroaching as well as my muse requesting that I focus on one of my other WIP's. I will just keep typing and hoping that you all continue to enjoy my stories. Thank you all so very much for returning.

Chapter 4

'Because I couldn't!" yelled the portrait "This whole house was under His control from the moment my son let him in the front door!"

Staring at the ranting portrait in front of her Hermione let her head drop back to the cushion that she reclined upon, immediately regretting the jar to her aching head. She knew who "He" was, and she understood why the portrait of Walburga Black would have been frothing at the mouth if she had been able to. He just never stopped, never would quit, couldn't leave well enough alone. Because it wasn't his way, and if things did not go his way, well he just needed to correct that.

"What changed Walburga? Why can you now tell me the truth after all of these years?"

"And they called you the brightest witch of the age, why do you think I can tell you the truth? What changed Miss Granger? You said it yourself."

Raising her hand to cover her mouth did not stop the little groan from leaving her lips. She had said it herself. The last Black scion had died without issue. Draco was dead. The thought alone brought tears to her eyes. Her last allies, her friends at arms Draco and Theo were both gone, both dead. The curse on the Black family home had been tied to the blood line and with the ending of that magical blood line, the Noble House of Black had fallen along with any hexes or curses that had been placed by the family or against the family would have fallen too.

"I see that you understand the significance of your previous words. When he followed my son into this manor and placed the Fidelus Charm upon it, it basically gave him say over every sentient object, every portrait, Kreacher and myself. Did you know that while my son was in residence here, every night as my son went to his room to sleep, He would awaken me, so that as Sirius walked past, I would begin to scream at him? He knew that I was trying to communicate with Sirius, but all that came out were screaming insults towards him, Mr. Lupin and yourself."

"He would make sure that the door to Regulus's room was open so that Sirius could see how devoted he was to Slytherin house and to "The Dark Lord". He discouraged Kreacher from keeping this house neat once his master had returned. He ordered him to tell Mr. Potter that he had gone to the Ministry that night. He knew that Sirius would follow you there. That he would do anything to keep Mr. Potter and yourself safe."

"What?" asked Hermione, "Why would you say that? Sirius and I fought all the time. We could barely stand to be in the same room together."

"Oh my dear girl, there is so much that you have forgotten, so much that they took from you If only I were alive to kill them all, but there is nothing to be done for it."

"Lady Black, I don't understand what you think I have forgotten. I remember helping Harry save Sirius, but then afterwards we really didn't have much to say to each other. I felt he drank to much and abused Kreacher unfairly. I thought that he didn't see Harry for his memories of James."

"That bastard and his want to be mistress ruined everything!" Screeched the painting. "Kreacher, we must fix this, she can not go forward believing this fallacy."

Looking between his former mistress and the one that had been left behind by everyone, Kreacher shook his head, his ears flapping before speaking "But Mistress, her head wounds have not been healed completely, the stress of this may damage her more."

Suddenly, there was a large boom outside of the townhome shaking the foundation.

"Kreacher shore up the wards again and then show her. We do not have much time and she need to know this before…"

Staring between the portrait and the house elf, Hermione asked "Before what? Know what, what have they hidden? They are going to kill me or take me hostage if they get through these walls. I would rather die than be taken by the likes of them. What do I need to know and why now?"

"Kreacher, let her see Sirius to begin with, there is much more that she needs to see, but she needs to understand why first."

Climbing upon the settee where she was reclined, still unable to fully access her strength. Kreacher stood and looked regretfully into the pained caramel colored eyes and croaked to the mudblood that had invaded his home all those years ago. "I am sorry Missy Mudblood, this may hurt a bit, but mistress is correct. You must know this; they should not have taken this away from you and my master.

Tapping his long spindly fingers against her temples, he released a pent-up breath and croaked out the word "finite"

Suddenly images and feelings assaulted Hermione's mind. One after another and in snippets she was reintroduced to the reality that was her friendship and the deep abiding love that she had once felt for Sirius Orion Black.

Tears soon fell from her eyes as she felt the sobs welling up in her chest. A scream tore from her lips as the pain attacked her already tortured brain and feeling tore through her heart. They had taken something so precious and left her with anger and derision for a man that had already lost so much. In such a terrible time of a war that he had never been given a reprieve from, her disloyalty must have cut him like a knife.

She remembered the flight on the back of Buckbeak to escape the minister and the dementor that were coming to suck out his soul. She remembered his smile for her before he flew away to parts unknown, until he contacted her that summer.

He had thanked her profusely for saving him, for giving him a chance to be in Harry's life, to reconnect with Remus. He spoke of his time in Azkaban and how the only way he had survived was by living most days as Padfoot. He did not remember a trial but remembered saying that it was all his fault that Jamie and Lily were gone. He had honestly believed that by being the obvious choice as secret keeper that he was protecting them better. He had no idea that he had already given them up, that he had forfeited his friends and loved ones.

She had written back with all the empathy that she had, she realized that he had spent the years of his youth surrounded by the worst possible people, Death Eaters that had believed in the words of the one that they followed. Surrounded by soul sucking monsters that sucked out every happy memory that might have come to mind during the twelve years that he had been held captive for crimes that he had not committed.

She had questioned this, spending any extra time she had in her fourth year between trying to find a way to clear his name as well as keep Harry alive throughout the Triwizard tournament. On top of her other responsibilities, she strove to understand the complexities that bound the house elves to Hogwarts, once realized, she requested food for him that she would deliver whenever she could escape from the castle without being missed.

When Harry had been taken from the school and used in the ritual to bring back that evil dark lord and then tortured before fighting his way back, she had blamed herself for not protecting hm better. He was her brother and she would have done anything for him. Sirius would not let her blame herself; he did not blame her. He blamed Dumbledore as well as all the other teachers that should have been protecting the children at Hogwarts. The argument that he had with Snape after Harry returned came to mind. She had forgotten all of this. She knew that the animosity had ceased that night in their wish to end this war before it could begin or resume again.

She remembered being taken to Number 12 after being gathered from her house. She had tried to contact Harry by post mail and the letter had been intercepted by Molly Weasley whom was on guard duty for Harry that morning. Not trusting her not to try again, her confinement at headquarters began.

She remembered the hug that she had received from Sirius as well as the one from Remus for taking care of his best friend and honorary nephew when she arrived. She also remembered the shared angst over when Harry would arrive and how angry he would be over their lack of communication that summer.

She remembered the late night discussions over hot chocolate in the dark and dank basement kitchen of the townhouse, the afternoons hiding in the library searching for spells, charms and hexes to protect Harry from those that would harm him, from the dreams that plagued his mind all the while sitting side by side on this settee that she reclined upon now.

The year had begun, and they could no longer write as mail was being monitored in and out of Hogwarts. He had given Harry a communication mirror but had never been able to tell either one about it. By the time that Christmas had arrived, along with the scared Weasley family and distraught Harry who became a hermit cooped up in his bedroom, the mirrors had been forgotten.

She remembered before they were to return to school that he had drawn her aside for a quick hug and a soft kiss to her forehead before whispering that he would probably go to hell for this, he then placed a soft lingering kiss on her lips. Pressing her fingertips to her lips she looked up into his eyes before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close to her while she rested her forehead against his.

"I thought it was just me." She had whispered against his lips.

"No kitten, it was me too. It will always be you; we just have to wait for you to grow up a little more."

With those words he kissed her softly once again and stepped away from her, his hands sliding down her arms to grip her delicate hands tightly. "Stay safe and keep our boy safe."

"Always", she whispered squeezing his fingers before letting them go and reaching down to grab her bag.

With one last lingering look at him, she turned to see Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway with her wand aloft and pointing at her, beside her stood Mad Eye with his wand pointed at Sirius, a quick stupefy had him passed out on the floor and an Obliviate from Molly Weasley had darkness falling over her.

She returned to school not remembering the letters or the closeness that had developed between the two of them. She followed Harry to the ministry after being unable to reach Sirius by floo and she was struck down by Dolohov. She never knew that Sirius had shown up to save her and Harry. She was not there when he disappeared through the veil driven by Bellatrix's wand and she never understood the coldness that had settled over her heart at the news of his death.

As these memories returned and settled upon her, she cried for all that they had both lost and what they could never have. She was only slightly relieved that he had been joined by Harry and Remus in death. The marauders and son were reunited for their next great adventure. She now longed for the ability to join them.


	5. Chapter 5

I know that my postings have been a little behind, but real life has gotten a bit more real and demanding. My muse did not feel like working while on vacation very much, so it took me the week to get this chapter finished. I really hope that you all enjoy it. Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favorites. You guys are the bee's knees.

To Serve the Noble House of Black

Chapter 5

As these memories returned and settled upon her, she cried for all that they had both lost and what they could never have. She was only slightly relieved that he had been joined by Harry and Remus in death. The marauders and son were reunited for their next great adventure. She now longed for the ability to join them…

"Ok Miss Granger, enough of the tears, there is work to be done and much more that you need to learn before the end." Said the portrait looking down at the witch below with a look of disdain upon her face.

"Why won't you let me die?" asked Hermione with tear filled eyes. "He is gone, they are all gone. There is nothing left to do. This is the end." Closing her eyes once more, she let her head fall forward, her hair though matted, obscured her vision and the tears that rolled down her face.

Giving the young witch a moment to catch her breath before beginning again, Walburga left her frame and traveled to the library to see if she could collect any other Black relatives that would speak to Hermione and provide her with the information she would need going back. Finding Phineas Nigellus Black and Cedrella Black Weasley, she roughly ordered them to join her in the portraits by the stairway.

Arriving back by the stairway she decided that she must get a bit more direct with the witch that would save their world. It was too late for her and Cedrella. And Phineas had been gone for much too long, but their children should not have died at the whim of "Him" or rather them. Her love, Orion should have had the opportunity to live to an old age with someone that would love him unconditionally and her boys should have had the same opportunity. He had destroyed their world and it was up to their combined efforts to save them.

"Miss Granger", barked Walburga sharply before deciding that it may not be the way to truly reach the witch, moderated her tone a bit more and said "Hermione, enough of this. You have survived all these atrocities. You are still alive, and you know what has happened to our world because of the narrow mindedness of certain individuals. The undying belief in one person has brought us to this point."

The house shuddered again as the wards were beat upon. Kreacher snapped his fingers once again and the shaking stopped.

Hermione cleared the hair from her eyes with shaking hands and stared at the portrait in front of her. The use of her first name, from the portrait of the witch that had spewed such vicious words towards her and those that she loved, made her feel like she may be becoming a bit more unhinged that she first believed. Maybe she was dead already and this was her punishment for not being smart enough, fast enough or strong enough to save those loved ones. She didn't notice that others had joined the portraits around her, so narrowed was her gaze.

"I survived it all by the skin of my teeth." Began Hermione, her hands continuing to shake and her teeth beginning to chatter. Her head was pounding again with all that she had learned. "I don't want to do this anymore. They are going to kill me when they get through these bloody wards! I am the only one left. I am all alone now. Harry is gone, Sirius is gone, Remus and gods even Severus. Ron is gone, hell all of the Weasley's are gone!"

"And good riddance! The only good Weasley is a dead Weasley!" Sneered Walburga.

About to protest, Hermione was interrupted by another voice that she did not recognize.

"I think that that is a bit much Walburga, not all of my descendants were terrible. There were some that are salvageable." Stated Cedrella innocently.

"Name one." Deadpanned Walburga, looking at her niece.

"I can name more than one. There was Ronald, Percy, George, William, Charles, Frederick."

"I'll give you Ronald, for he actually tried in the end, and maybe Percival as well as he saw through the man from the beginning, but the rest of them allowed this to happen. They followed that mad man and that evil bitch that they called mother right until they didn't." Snarled Walburga. "At least you didn't mention Arthur or that hussy Ginevra."

At this conversation she was witnessing between the two feuding portraits, Hermione felt her eyes open incredibly wide, before she tried to defend the Weasley's mentioned by the Black Matriarch. To hear them talk about the family that she had once thought of as her own even knowing now the duplicity of Molly Weasley, had not prepared her to hear, what she heard next.

"Yes, well I was terribly disappointed in my son for marrying that particular Prewitt. He had so many more options out there, but she was persistent." Replied the portrait of Cedrella Weasley, nee Black before continuing.

"And I honestly don't quite believe that little Ginevra was truly a Weasley. All those sons and then when he called it quits, comes a daughter? That was a little hard to swallow and as I was already deceased by then, my portrait was regulated to the attic. It was only by the intervention of Percival that I was moved back into the living quarters of the house. That I was able to witness so much that had been done to destroy our world and the ones responsible for it. But Poor Ronald tried to do the right thing and stop that harridan and her whelp. He was cut down by that bitch when he tried to stop her from hurting Mr. Potter. "

This news caused Hermione to sit a little straighter and to gasp. She had not known that Harry and Ron had been together when Harry was killed.

They had been separated when the Muggleborn registration remained and Hermione continued to evade it. Harry had gone to Hogwarts to reconnect with Ginny and speak with the remaining professors regarding these absurd regulations that had not been retracted, even with Kingsley as the Minister and so many of the Death Eaters captured. Ron had been tasked with going home to his family and seeing if the Order was going to try and intervene in the ruling of the Wizengamot and what the Ministry was continuing to propagate even after the demise of the Dark Lord.

Hermione had gone into hiding once again. A tent, the remaining money from her once well-padded University fund, that at once she had laughed about, with thoughts that she would always be a witch and that her future would remain in the wizarding world. It was now virtually nonexistent and there was nowhere left to hide either in Wizarding England or in the muggle world as the wizards had discovered ways to trace her there as well.

Now trying to concentrate once more on what was being said between the portraits that had gathered near to where she lay, her heart grew colder as she learned more about her best friend's final days and moments.

"I can still hear poor Ronald yelling as that little hussy bound her new husband to the door of that awful dwelling that Arthur was always trying to upgrade for that ungrateful bitch. She could have had a proper home for her children, but she refused to be associated with the Black family that she married into. If she didn't want to be associated with the Black family, she should not have married into it. But oh, she wanted the money, but by disassociating with us Blacks, she lost that money. You would have thought that she would have learned." Ranted Cedrella

Swallowing down the bile that was quickly coming up her throat and pushing to be spewed all around her, she had to ask.

"What do you mean she bound her new husband to the door? Who was Ginny married to? How did they hurt Harry? Why couldn't Ron stop her?" Hermione asked the portrait's that surrounded her. They looked onto her with varying degrees of pity that she had never experienced before from the likes of them.

"My dear girl, you really were left out of the loop, but of course you couldn't be included because you would have tried to stop them." Said the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

"That girl would have fought tooth and nail to save poor Mr. Potter to the detriment of herself and all that she can now accomplish. It is much better that she hears the worst from us so that she can prevent that from ever happening." Said Walburga

Growing more confused, Hermione asked again.

"What happened to Harry? What does this have to do with Ginny's husband and why couldn't Ron stop her?"

"Oh, beautiful Mistress, I know Missy Mudblood must know these things, but she is not healed, and she must be healed to move back." Croaked Kreacher.

"Walburger, will her knowing this help her on her journey? She knows what has happened to this world, I don't even know if she could handle returning with so many of her memories intact." Inserted the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

"Please tell me what happened to my best friends before I am gone, I need to know how they died." Sobbed Hermione trying to quell some of the shaking that she was experiencing. She knew that this information was important. She knew that they were both gone but did not know the evil that took them or why.

"Ms. Granger, your friend Mr. Potter was used horribly by the Weasley family, I am sorry to say." Began Cedrella

"My daughter in law knew that Mr. Potter was taken and kept with those horrible muggles, that he lived in horrible conditions. She knew that "his" plans for Mr. Potter depended on him being kept in the dark about the magical world. That he had hoped that any help offered to him would form a bond of trust and need and she knew that by their first meeting at Kings Cross Station, that she would become the maternal figure that he needed. That her Ronald would become the best friend slash brother figure and she and he planned for that whelp of hers to become a love interest for the boy in the future. She wrapped that boy in the ginger blanket of the Weasley's and Prewitt's to tie him back to the red hair and fairness of his mother."

"The lengths that, that bitch went to with that boy. If she had planned half as well for her own children, well Ronald may have been a better student at the very least. If you hadn't carried him through, that boy wouldn't have made it out of his first year." Seeing Hermione about to object, she continued quickly. "Don't get me wrong, the boy was intelligent, he just had too much entitlement that was served to him by his mother and her ridiculous beliefs." offered Walburga from her frame.

"But that is neither here nor there." Inserted Phineas, "There is more for her to learn."

Trying to absorb the conversation around her, her eyes kept coming back to Walburga.

"That is what we are here for" began Walburga again. "The fact is that she helped him raise that boy for slaughter, literally twice with the resurrection of The Dark Lord and then with the resurrection of him. They used the same damn spell and potion, but of course with her superior brewing skills, he came back stronger, better and with more of his facilities then the one that he showed the way to before. He used those boys for his own nefarious plans. It wasn't just Potter, Riddle and Snape. It was my boys and Dorea's boy, hell even the wolf was cannon fodder for his wars. He believed in Grindelwald until Grindelwald believed in his own version of the Greater Good."

Leaning forward upon hearing of the resurrection. That her best friend, her brother had been slaughtered for, Hermione growled out, her hair though limp beginning to spark. "What, do you mean Harry was used for the resurrection of him?"

With a great put-upon air, Walburga stared at the young woman in front of her, questioning herself once again if this was the one to save them?

Remembering that she was the last one standing she truthfully replied. "He used the same spell, the same ritual to return himself, that Tom Riddle used at the end of your fourth year. Where do you think he learned it? It wasn't Mr. Potters recollection of what happened at the graveyard. Where do you think Tom Riddle learned about it at the tender age of sixteen?"

"Whom do you think wrote Magick Moste Evile, Ms. Granger." Asked Phineas

"But there was nothing in there on them, not how to destroy them. There literally was one miniscule paragraph on Horcruxes." complained Hermione with an irritated whine.

"He wasn't going to let everyone know of his plans, he just needed to feed the information to one child and who better than an orphan Slytherin child who wanted to be accepted, who wanted to be more powerful than the wizard that held such disdain for him?" asked Phineas.

"That whelp of Molly's tied Potter to herself as soon as she saw him again. She bedded him and within a week swore that she was with child. She convinced him to leave the safety of Hogwarts with Minerva in charge and dragged him back to the Burrow where Molly smothered him with all the motherly love that she had and then demanded that they wed as soon as possible. Ronald, though weary of the suddenness of their nuptials, just wanted the normality of Mr. Potter being there as part of his family." Explained Cedrella.

"Percy questioned the suddenness of them bonding as well, but the others just wanted a reason to rejoice after the loss of their brother and others that they loved and cared for."

"It wasn't until the wedding had occurred that they found out that Mr. Potter had created his will after Sirius passed in order to leave everything to you in the event of his death. After the disaster that was your great escape from Gringotts left him without accessibility to his vaults nor his will, he was unable to update the contents, or even name their soon to be child as heir. Ginevra begged her mother to fix this tragedy of errors, crying that only "he" could correct this, and that it was time. "supplied Cedrella looking more frazzled then a portrait should look.

" The bitch tied him up as soon as he returned from meeting Ronald about your whereabouts. Molly had the cauldron running hot, scorching the air around them. There were the bones of a hand laying on the table as well as a particular silver instrument that the bastard left to her youngest, and Molly with wild eyes, walked up to the boy who defeated, and stabbed an athame straight into his chest, just barely missing his heart. He looked up to her in fright and asked her what she was doing, what her whelp was doing. And she replied with "We are bringing back, the greatest wizard since Merlin. The one that can save us all during these uncertain times. The one whom will help us achieve great things, with or without you. The one who has plans, great plans for this community, no longer will we have to hide. There will be no division of blood purity, there will only be power and those too weak to wield it." Said Walburga with a vindictive look in her gaze.

"Within moments she had placed Mr. Potter's blood into the cauldron as well as the hand of "his" father and a slice of skin from her own hand, not her whole hand like that fool Pettigrew used. She knew the wand movements as well as the incantation and when it seemed like the world had stopped, there rose the second coming of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore in all of his blazing glory." Snarled Phineas.


	6. Chapter 6

+I know, I know it has been a pretty long time between chapters. I'm sorry. I am so very thankful that all of you are enjoying my story enough to follow and favorite it. I am totally stoked with the reviews. I know that more and more people are seeing that Dumbledore was not as light as he led everyone to believe. He used child soldiers in all his wars as cannon fodder until he could take credit for the take down of the big bad. He had a very inflated ego, and everyone fed into it. I did at first too. I was upset when he died in the 6th book, was very upset with*Snape for his betrayal and didn't understand how he didn't see it. But it was I that did not see, until I reread the books and saw exactly how manipulative he was. Chess was very big in all the stories and he was the Chess Master even after his death. Now I would gladly Avada him right off the astronomy tower. *

**To Serve the Noble House of Black**

**Chapter 6**

"_Within moments she had placed Mr. Potter's blood into the cauldron as well as the hand of "his" father and a slice of skin from her own hand, not her whole hand like that fool Pettigrew used. She knew the wand movements as well as the incantation and when it seemed like the world had stopped, there rose the second coming of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore in all of his blazing glory." Snarled Phineas._

The silence was deafening.

The pause in speech once Phineas completed the recounting of the rebirth of Albus Dumbledore was dramatic. The collage of the portraits looking at the broken shell of the young witch before them were poised to pick up the narrative but were unsure if she could handle it.

Hermione could see it. She could see the red headed bitches attacking Harry in the place that he felt most at home in, now that the war had come to Hogwarts. The table that he had shared many meals with them during the summers that he had spent there within view. She could see the looks of disbelief on her boys faces. Harry for being attacked and Ron for witnessing whom had done it.

She had always felt uneasy around Mrs. Molly Weasley, for all of her "Molly" Codling of everyone san Hermione over the years, there was always a glint in her eyes. A knowing that she was always right, her way was the only way and Albus Dumbledore could do no wrong. Even her husband could not stop her when she was on one of her tangents, whether it was at one of her brilliant sons or Sirius Black, the man that had loved Hermione, the man that she had loved. The man that would have saved Harry if Albus fucking Dumbledore had just done his fucking job and not held himself as Lord and Savior of the idiotic wizarding world.

Hermione had never really been a fan of Ginevra Weasley either, especially after being petrified in her second year by the stupid twit's pet Basilisk. Here, lets room Hermione and Ginny together, never mind that she sicced a sixty foot snake on her last year, along with Colin Creevey, Harry Potter's number one fan, Penelope Clearwater, her older brother's girlfriend, and Justin Finch Fletchly, the boy that was calling Harry "The Heir of Slytherin". She had never slept in that witch's presence and often, Hermione had made her way down to the library where she fell asleep listening to the stories that Remus and Sirius would tell her and Harry.

As they got older, the girl just became more and more obsessed with Harry and Hermione, hoping to divert some of that obsession, tried to get her to focus on other boys to give Harry time to figure out if he even liked girls. To this day, Hermione still wasn't sure.

Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't, no couldn't have known that the Deluminator that had been left to him by that bastard was a horcrux. He had been so appreciative that he had been left something by "The Great Albus Dumbledore". It was no wonder that Ron had been so affected on the hunt, he was carrying two evil souls every time that he put the damn locket around his neck.

She could picture the hurt in those gorgeous emerald and sky-blue colored eyes of her best friends. The women that they had loved and the headmaster that they had trusted and reviled, even after he had dragged them through hell for the six years that they had been under his tutelage had betrayed the both of them, all of them. They had just vanquished one maniac and his followers and now another maniac and two followers had sprung up in their place. It was the beginning of the end once again as they would have realized that without the repeal of the muggleborn registration that there were more followers than those standing with them in that kitchen.

Cedrella picked up the retelling of the bitter tale of betrayal. Harry had looked at his mentor and asked him why, how, why he would do this. Why he would create such a dark object, when he spouted the power of love? How Molly and Ginny could have been turned to perform such dark magic, could use him like they all had? Was it their intention all along, for Harry to defeat Tom and then Albus would in turn destroy Harry? But he put on that ring, that wasn't in the plans. It was a good thing that he had minions then, just like that coward Pettigrew.

At that Ginny took offense and started throwing curses at Harry, trying to shut him up. At the flying of the first spell, Ron turned on his sister and threw a stunner at her hoping to throw off her aim. The power behind the stunner threw her into a corner of the kitchen dresser where she hit her head and it began to bleed profusely. Molly then turned on her youngest son and started throwing vicious spells at him, telling him how worthless he was, how she had never wanted six boys, he was a failure that couldn't do what he was told. Cedrella paused then and looked over at broken witch staring sightlessly ahead, picturing with unfortunate perfect clarity what had happened. "She did the one thing that I never imagined her able to do, that no mother should ever be able to do… staring at the tear stained, unbelieving eyes of her youngest son… Molly Weasley threw the Killing Curse at her child."

"That Fucking Bitch!" shrieked Hermione curling in on herself and pulling on her hair again. Rage began to fill her, and her limp hair started sparking in the candlelight of the room. "I know that bitch is dead, but Christ I want to resurrect her myself and kill her again and again!" screamed Hermione, her eyes crazed with rage."

"Kreacher!" yelled Walburga, "Calm her down before she pulls the wards down herself." She growled as Knick knacks started flying about the room and mirrors cracked down the hall. The manor shook again and again with the spells being thrown at it, attacking the wards to get to the young witch inside. "Damn bastards are persistent." Snarled Phineas "Cedrella, finish telling her so that we can send them back!" He yelled.

Kreacher, once again stepped up to the broken witch and touched his finger to the middle of her forehead. She immediately calmed, the sparks dying down in her limp, blood encrusted hair. Slowly the flying objects fell to the ground and Kreacher snapped his fingers again tightening the wards.

"Mistress's, Master," croaked Kreacher, "Are you sure she needs to know this. She is hurt most badly."

"Kreacher, she must know whom her enemies are so that she can keep them close, so that she can prevent the atrocities that have destroyed this world." Explained Walburga.

Cedrella looked to the portrait of Walburga before continuing, "Mr. Potter yelled out for my grandson before turning on Dumbledore and asking him, "Who did you have to kill to make your Horcrux?"

"Your Mother." Smirked Albus at the thorn in his side.

With that, the bonds fell away from Mr. Potter and he started throwing wandless curses at both Albus and Molly, holding his own until my son came to the door and distracted him for a moment. It only took that split second for Albus to come up behind Mr. Potter and stab him in the back with the Athame that had returned him to life, before rasping in his ear, "And your death will make my next one."


End file.
